


Of Forgiveness

by Natasha_Rostova



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hints of past romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasha_Rostova/pseuds/Natasha_Rostova
Summary: Nerdanel offers forgiveness, even when it’s unwanted
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Of Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> This used to be a drabble, but I’ve edited it and lengthen it to be its own fic. I really liked coming back to this,

The world seemed still. 

To him it seemed that Arda had not breathed since his atar passed. 

Since his atar had been murdered.

All of Valinor seemed to sit in a dark haze.

The servants load the carts in silence. Making little noise as they remove his belongings from the manor. His sons assist, carrying boxes from their rooms. Their faces covered in shadows.

The road to Teleri Kingdom would prove to be a fair journey, even with the carts and horses. For they had long since abandoned the busting cities of inner Valinor, confiding in the loneliness of the dark beaches. 

What cowards.

“Fëanoro.”

Nerdanel. 

His breath catches in his throat. She sounded so soft. So quiet and fragile. Despite everything, despite hours of fighting, despite the screaming and the crying and curses, despite it all, her voice alone is enough to pull on his heart. Deep in his heart just wanted to hold her until she didn’t sound so delicate anymore. So broken. Even in one word.

Yet Fëanor swallows it, pushing the feeling deep in his chest, he wasn’t a child anymore. He turns.

And there she was. 

She’s dressed in that pale red dress Fëanor had gotten custom made for her begetting day. Golden ribbons and hand embroidered flowers. Even after all these ages it still fit perfectly. She was still perfect. Her hair is a pinned mess, and he almost wishes to tuck the loose strands behind her ears. Just to feel her again. The mess and wonder almost reminded him of their younger years. 

Almost.

For it seemed oceans were between them now. Despite being mere breaths away.

He wanted to ask what she was doing here. Yet his voice seems to be gone.

Why? Had she come to fight again? To scream and yell until their voices were cracked and faces stained with tears? Anything was better than just standing here, staring at each other. 

Screaming made him forget how much his heart ached. Fighting and sharp words made him forget how warm her hand was in his.

She steps forward. Cautious and shaking, Nerdanel slowly moves towards him. Her gaze is steady, locked on his. Fëanor can not find it in himself to step away.

Even in the darkness of Valinor, Fëanor can see the glimmer of tears in her eyes, despite this, she reaches out. Hesitant, and touch oh so gentle as cups his cheek. 

Fëanor struggles to breathe, inhaling sharply. He can feel himself stiffen to her touch. He wasn’t to yell, to pull away, but he’s grounded. What did she want, why-

“I forgive you.” Nerdanel’s gaze is locked on him. Face filled with sadness and regret and- and so much love. Despite everything. He can see it. Just behind the green of her eyes.

Before he can hold on to the feeling, Nerdanel pulls away. Her hands are shaking now, and Fëanor cannot stop the taunting of his own mind. She looks as if she touched an open flame. 

Although his heart wants to follow her touch, Fëanor remains still. His mind knew this was just a distraction.

He tries to look as stoic as possible, perhaps she would just quit playing with him and reveal why she was actually here.

“I forgive you.” She repeats, voice quivering and tears now leaking from her eyes. She wraps her arms around her frame, shrinking into herself. “Fëanáro. I forgive you.” Red leaks into his vision as she speaks, and a burning starts in his chest.

“How!” What seemed to be a question comes out more like a demand. Fëanor can not stop the flames of his heart that seem to burn his skin. He can’t stop the rage that bubbles. 

Temptress. 

Liar. 

“How could it be that easy? Have you merely come to mock?” His tone is sharp, and he hopes that it’s enough to get her to leave. He can’t take this game anymore. Yet instead of fleeing, She softens. Shoulders dropping.

“Fëanáro. It is that easy because I love you.” Nerdanel seems more distressed now, brow furrowed and hand to her chest, “Have you forgotten? Have you forgotten I love you?” His breath catches. There is nothing but pity written on her face, sadness turned to empathy. She stares at him, glossy eyes and furrowed brow. A fear wells in his chest.

It only makes him burn more. 

“Leave.” He whispers, Fëanor can feel himself shake.

“Fëanáro…” Nerdanel reaches out again, and this time Fëanor burns.

“LEAVE!” He yells, and the quiet of the night seems to have shattered. 

“Just so.” She breathes. Nerdanel doesn’t yell. Or cry or scream, which is what he wanted. It would have made everything easier. Yet her calm, the softness of her gaze tells him the truth.

She meant it.

Forgiveness. 

She meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! That means a lot to me!


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